


A Single Spark

by Quickspinner



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, André Glacier's Ice Cream, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage Proposal, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirate Luka, Prompt Fill, Rating May Change, Rock Star Luka, Tumblr Prompt, mlweeklyprompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: A collection of short lukanette ficlets written as prompt fills for mlweeklyprompts on tumblr.This week: Andre is full of it and you can't change my mind.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 105
Kudos: 345





	1. Simply the Best

**Author's Note:**

> The Lovebugs and Snakecharmers brain trust came up with this idea of a weekly, ship-neutral ML prompt. Even though the event was created by a Lukanette group it's open to all ships, or no ships, or friendships! Anything that meets the very few rules will be reblogged to the prompt blog to share with everyone. If you're interested, check it out at [mlweeklyprompts.tumblr.com](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/mlweeklyprompts)
> 
> ...but we all know I'm writing Lukanette fills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first week's prompt was published as a chapter of All in the Family and can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472690/chapters/55647193).

Luka turned back and smirked at the sight of Marinette’s narrowed eyes and pinched mouth, pins falling behind him with a clatter. 

“You enjoy provoking me,” she said, as he stepped down from the lanes and folded into the hard plastic chair next to her.

“Maybe a little,” Luka grinned. “You’re cute when you’re competitive. I love it when you look at me like you want to break me in half and bury me six feet under.” He leaned over and pecked her tense lips. “Go on, babe, show me how it’s done.” 

“I hate you and I  _ am _ going to break you in half,” she muttered as she got up and found her pink ball in the rack before stepping up onto the lanes. 

“Promises, promises,” Luka sighed under his breath as she walked away. Marinette looked back, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, and Luka grinned lazily at her, one elbow propped up on the backs of the chairs and his head leaning on his fist. Marinette stepped up to the line and squared up, looking intently at the little triangles on the floor in front of her. Luka sighed, eyeing her strong,  _ bare _ legs and trying to at least be enough of a gentleman not to ogle her ass behind her back, though it was really hard because she was wearing some really well-fitted shorts and she wiggled it every time she got ready to throw. 

Luka watched her step and dip and roll and bend, and then straighten up, bouncing on her toes as she watched the ball speed down the lane. She was really very good, it was just he had a little more experience and she hadn’t figured out the advantages of using a heavier ball yet. Which was great because he could  _ see _ that amazing mind of hers trying to figure out his advantage and he could see that it made her absolutely crazy and he was loving every second of it, even if it was maybe slightly counter-productive to his plans for the day. Her competitive streak tickled him to no end, appealing to some devilish part of him that just loved to rile her up. Luka supposed he just couldn’t be comfortable without at least a little bit of anarchy in his life. His grin widened slightly as her ball took out only most of the pins, and he got to see her little pout as she came back to grab her ball and try for the spare. He could watch that little hair flip she did as she grabbed her returned ball, the one that flashed his favorite spot on her neck at him, all day.

Marinette bagged the spare and came back with a triumphant grin and a sway in her hips that did absolutely nothing to reduce his desire to rile up her competitive side. 

He didn’t even watch his last strike hit and had to bite his lip to hold his laugh in. “Last frame, babe. You’ve still got a chance.”

“You bet I do,” Marinette huffed, brushing past him. Instead of sitting down, Luka stood (carefully off to one side, because he knew Marinette and he wasn’t stupid) right behind the step onto the wood floor of the lanes.

He had to time this just right...there.

“Marry me,” he said, and had to cover his mouth as Marinette’s foot slipped out from under her and her ball spun wildly across the lane, heading right into the gutter as she tumbled into the floor. “Are you okay?” he managed to choke out as Marinette flopped over on the floor to stare at him, and then he burst into full-on laughter at the look on her face. 

Right on cue, the speakers overhead blasted, “Simply the best! Better than all the rest!” Luka grinned and turned to give a thumbs up to Dingo working behind the counter. 

Marinette’s jaw dropped in outrage and she scrambled to her feet and stomped over him. His face had to be bright red from laughter by now, and he couldn’t even resist as she stomped over and shoved him, though he put his hands up in mock surrender. 

“You jerk!” she cried, shoving him again, and then smacking him a couple of times for good measure as he tried to back away, but he bumped into the chairs instead.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, completely insincerely. “I’m sorry, Marinette, but you should see your face.” 

“I can’t believe you fake proposed to me just to win so you could play your stupid prank!” Marinette exclaimed, shoving his shoulder as he tried to get his laughter under control.

Luka managed to get on a mostly straight face, though his mouth twitched from the effort as he raised an eyebrow at her, and reached into the pocket of his hoodie. The color drained from Marinette’s face and she took a step back as he pulled out a red velvet box and opened it, turning it to face her. “Who said I was faking?” he asked, reaching out one hand to catch hers and pull her close. “Breathe, baby.” 

She did, sort of, sucking in air as her mouth opened and closed like a fish. Luka grinned. He loved her so damn much. “I’d still like an answer,” he reminded her. 

Marinette gaped for another moment and then threw up her arms. “Fine! Fine, I’ll marry you, you insufferable, obnoxious,  _ cheating _ —” Luka caught her around the waist and pulled her into a kiss. “Fiancé,” she finished breathlessly, hands gripping tight to his arms. He took the ring out of the box, tossing the box back on the chair behind him. Then he pried her left hand off his bicep and slipped the ring on her finger. 

Marinette held her hand up and stared at it like it belonged to somebody else. Luka swallowed, suddenly a little choked up and shaky himself. He touched Marinette’s waist gently and she looked back at him, expression still dazed. Then she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Luka wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, grinning like an idiot even though his breathing had gone shallow and uneven and his vision slightly blurred. He could hear Dingo whoop from behind the counter and knew they had only seconds before his over-exuberant best friend tackled them both to the ground. 

“So,” he murmured. “Am I forgiven for beating you?”

“Never you stupid  _ cheater _ ."


	2. In the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka's never understood why Marinette gets so sad when it rains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little whiplash going from chapter 1 to this one, but I was mulling on this one and someone mentioned Chat Blanc and here we are with a little angst party.

Luka’s never really understood why the rain makes her so sad. Not the regular rain, the grey drizzle that sometimes weighs on the spirit, but the heavy, dark rains that come with thunder. The kind he’s always associated with danger and excitement and power. 

Not Marinette though. When it rains, it seems like her soul becomes too heavy for her to bear, and she just...shrinks. Diminishes. It hurts her, and that hurts him, and he doesn’t understand.

Luka doesn’t need to understand why, only to know that it does. When it rains, he lights candles. He gets her favorite comfort foods for dinner. He draws her a bath with lots of bubbles and he’s ready with her favorite soft blanket when she’s done. He bundles her up and lets her sit on the couch and be sad, and he plays his guitar so that she knows he’s near, that he’s here for her, and he gives her space to feel whatever it is. 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette says one day as the rain pounds in sheets on the windows of their small apartment, and he looks up from his guitar. 

“There’s no need to be sorry,” he tells her. 

“I don’t know why I get like this.” She clenches a hand over her heart, bunching the fabric of her shirt. “It’s like...like something bad happened. Or is going to happen. I’m not sure, I can’t remember—maybe it was a dream, or...something. I don’t know, it doesn’t make sense, it just feels like...like heartbreak...” 

“Hey,” he says, getting up and crossing the room to sit beside her. “It doesn’t have to make sense, and you don’t have to explain it. I’m here for you, whatever you need.” 

“Yeah,” she says after a moment, lifting a cold hand to trace his face. “You are. You’re always here.” She sighs. “You’re so warm...why do I feel so cold?”

“What can I do?” he asks gently, covering her hand with his own. “What do you need?” 

Marinette bites her lip, and tugs him closer, and kisses him, and begs him to kiss her, over and over, pressing as close as she can. She begs, though she needs only to ask, and Luka gives as he always does, and still feels like he’s gotten the better end of the bargain. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks her later, holding her close beneath the blankets piled on their bed. 

“Only a little,” she sighs, and snuggles closer to him.


	3. Pen Tattoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette doesn't always like the attention Luka gets from fans. Luka's going to make sure nobody has any doubt where he stands on the matter.

“You’re done, Luka,” the makeup artist told him, and Luka roused himself from his half-trance to give her a smile. “You’re ready for final costume check.

“Thanks, Lise.” Luka got up from the chair and went in search of his fiancée. 

His _secret_ fiancée, thanks to his meddling PR people, who insisted they wait until this tour was over before they announced anything. 

When Luka found her, he frowned. Marinette’s lips were pressed in a thin line and her brows were drawn close together as she checked over Juleka’s stage clothes and made adjustments. “You okay, babe?" he asked. “You look a little stressed.” Not the usual, manic stressed she usually looked during the last few minutes before a show. She looked _angry_. 

“She’s pissy about the groupies mobbing you earlier,” Juleka told him dryly with a roll of her eyes. 

“I swear if they don’t back off I’m gonna tattoo my name on your forehead with a sharpie,” Marinette growled, beginning to check him over the same way she’d done Juleka. 

Luka tilted his head slightly. “It really bothers, you, doesn’t it?” He wasn’t exactly thrilled with it either, but it came with the territory and he just kind of put up with it. He hadn’t realized Marinette was so upset about it. 

Marinette flushed and refused to meet his eyes. “Not usually,” she lied. He knew she was lying. “I’m just moody tonight, don’t mind me. That one girl grabbed your ass and it just—it got to me a little, I’ll be fine. It’s fine. Security took care of it and it’s fine.”

She didn’t look fine. 

Luka pressed his lips together, looking at her. “Yeah, no,” he said, taking her arm. “We’re fixing this right now.” 

“What? Wait! _Luka!_ ” He pulled her along after him without paying attention to her protests. 

He paused only to grab a radio off one of the stage crew. “Hey, Claude, it’s Luka, you got me? Gimme a spot on center stage right now. Jacques, you on? Make sure mic 3 is live.”

“Luka, what are you doing?” Marinette hissed as he pulled her out of the wings and onto the stage. 

“I’m fixing this so you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” 

“Wait, but—Luka, the plan.” 

Luka was already at the stand, pulling the mic free, and “Fuck the plan,” rang out across the crowded stadium. He paced at the front of the stage for a moment, staying in the light of the spot, and lifted the mic to his mouth. “What’s up Nice? You feeling good tonight?” 

A cheer rose up from the crowd as Luka looked up at one of the big screens on the sides of the stage. He nodded in satisfaction as he saw himself on it. “All right, well we’re not quite ready to start the show but before we get out here for real, I want to introduce you guys to someone.” He reached back and caught Marinette’s hand again, pulling her closer to him so that she was in the camera frame as well, and faced her rather than the crowd. “This brilliant lady is our costume designer and yours too, actually since she designed the t-shirts I see some of you guys wearing tonight. She’s brilliantly creative, an incredibly hard worker, and—” his voice hitched slightly in spite of himself. “And she’s the one and only love of my life.” He glanced at the crowd and winked. “And she’s probably going to kick my ass for this later, but I really needed you guys to know that Luka Couffaine is head over heels in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am absolutely, one hundred percent _off_ the market and I’m going to marry her the second we get home from this tour.”

He let the hand with the mic fall and turned back to her, letting go of her hand to spread his own. 

“Good enough?” he asked, and grinned against her mouth when she threw herself at him before kissing her thoroughly, noting with satisfaction out of the corner of his eye that they were still on the screen.

 _How’s that for PR_ , he thought smugly as the crowd erupted into a deafening roar.


	4. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette knew what she was doing when she agreed to go on Jagged’s summer tour—the one Luka was also going to be on.

She knew what would happen when she agreed to go on Jagged’s summer tour—the one Luka was also going to be on. She knew she was playing with fire when she agreed to go on travel in a group that included the boy who was in love with her, a boy she had spent so long trying desperately  _ not  _ to be in love with. 

Marinette knew exactly what she was doing when she smiled and handed Luka her bag to toss in the tour bus luggage compartment, and accepted his hand to steady her as she stepped up into the bus. She knew what she was doing when she wedged herself onto one of the couches and spread out her sewing project, leaving just enough space for Luka and his guitar. She suspected Luka knew it too, by the grin he flashed her when he asked if he could sit by her, though there were plenty of other options. 

She knew what she was doing the night she asked him to help her dye the tips of her hair pink, claiming she felt left out amongst the brightly colored hair all around her. She knew what she was doing when she kept stealing his hoodie in the cool evenings, until it smelled of both him and her (since he kept stealing it back in the mornings). She knew exactly why her hand always found its way into his so he could guide her through the craziness that was backstage as they prepared for Jagged’s shows. 

She knew what she was doing when they crammed themselves together in his bunk or hers, the curtain drawn, sharing earbuds while they watched a movie on one of their phones and muffling their giggles as the rest of the crew snored. 

What she was doing was forgetting, moving on, taking a chance. It was allowing feelings to grow instead of keeping them pruned back and under careful control. 

Marinette didn’t know the time, or the place, or the circumstances, but she knew the day would come, when he would look at her with those soft eyes, in one of those moments where his love and longing peeked through, and Adrien would be hundreds of miles away and the thought of him even further than that, and that siren song of  _ but what if _ would overwhelm her and drag her under. 

She didn’t know how it would happen or how far it would go but she knew that if she went on that summer tour, she would come back knowing the taste of his lips and the feel of his hands on her skin. 

What Marinette really didn’t know, because they’d never talked about it, was what would happen when the summer was over and the tour bus pulled back into Paris. She didn’t know what Luka was thinking as he held her hand and lifted one of his, sporting pink polish on the little finger, to tuck a pink-tipped lock of hair behind her ear as the bus lurched to a stop, but it felt oddly like a goodbye. She wasn’t sure what the little smile he gave her meant as he handed her her bag out of the luggage compartment and nodded towards Adrien, Alya, and Nino, waving at her frantically by Adrien’s driver. 

She did know what she was doing when she grabbed Luka’s hand and dragged him along with her to meet her friends. She stood there with his hand still tightly held in hers as Alya’s wide eyes took in Luka’s hoodie on her shoulders, her pink-tipped hair, and her pink-painted nails with black on the pinky, and then moved to Luka, catching, Marinette didn’t doubt, his nails that mirrored hers, Marinette’s flowers embroidered on one thigh of his jeans and decorating his shoes, and the pink and blue beaded bracelet she’d made him sparkling in the light around his wrist. 

“So,” Alya grinned, putting her hands on her hips. “Is your boyfriend coming with us then?” 

It was a word they had never used but Marinette just shook her head and smiled up at Luka, letting go of his hand to curl hers around his bicep instead, giving him a little shake as she wasn’t entirely sure he was still breathing. “He’s got to help the crew unload. But...you’ll call me later?” 

Luka blinked rapidly, looking extremely foolish, and Marinette bit her lip, trying not to giggle. “Uh, yeah. Definitely.” 

“Why are you so surprised?” she whispered, turning to him and cupping his cheek in a now-familiar move that he responded to instinctively, letting her draw him down so she could press a kiss to his lips. She lingered over it, intending to make a point to everyone present. She bumped her forehead lightly against Luka’s. “You better go help the crew,” she reminded him. “Bye, Luka. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Soon,” he repeated. “Sure.”

Marinette giggled. “Call me later. We’ll talk,” she winked, absently letting Adrien take her suitcase and workbag without looking away from Luka.

She let Alya bundle her into the car with the others but she leaned out of the window to wave to Luka, who still stood on the sidewalk looking completely dumbfounded as the car pulled away.

“I think you broke him, Mari,” Alya giggled, and Marinette smirked.

“Oh I knew exactly what I was doing,” she murmured, settling back in her seat. “So, how was  _ your _ summer?” 


	5. Sorry Not Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> A: You kissed me.  
> B: You kissed me back.  
> B: And I’m not here to apologize.

The tension was thick and felt foreign on the open air of the Liberty’s upper deck, a place where she’d always felt safe and calm and...free.

Loved.

Luka was leaning against the rail, staring not at her, but at the deck between his feet. 

“You kissed me,” he said quietly. 

“I did,” she said, with more confidence than she felt. This was just wrong. Usually he was the one with the steady gaze and she was the one who couldn’t look at him. This was all just...so wrong. “You kissed me back,” she pointed out, and Luka groaned, putting his hands over his face. “And...I’m not here to apologize. Not for kissing you. For a thousand other things, but. Not that. I’m not sorry, Luka. I’m sorry about the timing, I’m sorry it upset you so much, and most of all I’m sorry that I waited so long. I’m sorry for taking you for granted, and dragging you back into it when you thought you’d moved on, when that—when moving on was something you apparently wanted so badly, but—” 

“I haven’t moved on,” Luka mumbled from behind his hands.

“S-sorry?” Marinette said, blinking. She couldn’t have heard that right. 

Luka took his hands from his face and leaned them back on the rail with a white-knuckled grip. “I haven’t moved on. It’s true that I wanted to, and I’ve been trying, but I haven’t. I’m still as in love with you as I ever was. If I’d moved on I would have just asked you to stop and told you that door was closed. But i didn’t do that.” 

He hadn’t done that, it was true. He’d kissed her back so hard they’d fallen back against the wall. Heedless of his stage makeup or the fact that he had to perform in minutes, he’d kissed her like it would kill him to stop, until he finally pulled back with an expression so tortured that she felt a physical pain in her chest.

Then he’d gone on stage and delivered the most moving, emotional, heart-wrenching performance she’d ever heard. Everyone had loved it and the merch they’d brought with them sold out. 

Marinette still wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not. He could have kissed her back for a million reasons in that moment. Luka was Luka and so she didn’t think it was just...revenge, or entitlement, or any of the darker options that occurred to her as she lay in bed simultaneously horrified at herself and incredibly proud of him and how far he’d come as a man and an artist. 

Luka took a slow breath, bringing her back to the moment, and the slump in his shoulders, the way he curled in on himself a little bit, made her heart beat for all the wrong reasons. Why was she always the one hurting him? Why couldn’t she be for him the way he was for her? Why was it she couldn’t seem to give him anything but pain?

“Stop it,” he said, closing his eyes though he still hadn’t looked at her. “I can hear you spiraling from here.”

“Sorry,” Marinette whispered again, and her breath hitched, and no, no, this was all wrong, she was supposed to come here and be mature and sensible like he was, and say all the right things and make him feel the way he’d always made her feel, like his love was a gift and not a burden, that he offered it only when it would be a comfort and a help to her. 

She was not supposed to come here and cry and make him put aside his own feelings yet again to comfort her in a situation that was entirely of her own making. Marinette couldn’t fathom how Luka had managed all these years. Had he really not felt any of this? Was his love really that pure, or was he just better at hiding the pain than she was?

She half expected to feel Luka’s arms coming around her even now, but she didn’t. He wouldn’t, not at a time like this. His love had always included forgiveness for her mistakes, but he’d never once stopped her from taking responsibility for them. She struggled for a moment more, and at least that much he was willing to give her, the time to get herself together to do the right thing. 

Marinette wiped her eyes quickly with her thumb and straightened her back and shoulders, lifting her chin. “I’m sorry for my bad timing. I know how much your stage career means to you and I should have been more sensitive, even though you handled it...amazingly.” She gave him a quick smile but he still wasn’t looking at her. “I was wrong to let my emotions get the better of me in that moment. I should have waited and talked to you at a better time instead of just jumping you in the heat of the moment.” 

Luka raised his head a little, still looking off at the lights over the river rather than at her, and she could see him swallow and sigh, and if she’d been making that face it would have come with tears. 

Marinette took a deep breath, and continued, determined to get through what she had to say. “I didn’t—I want you to know, this isn’t because you’ve been pulling away. I understand why you did and that you needed it. I’m not going to say I didn’t realize how important you were to me because I did. You’ve always, always been important. I’ve always loved you on a level that—it wasn’t romantic, it didn’t start out that way, but as a—as a—” She didn’t know how to finish that. She didn’t want to hurt him the way she’d been hurt, and it wasn’t right to call him a brother either. “Confidant,” she said, finally. “Someone who protected me and was there for me...I don’t know how to say it—” 

Luka shook his head slightly. “You don’t have to. I’ve always known that.” 

Marinette nodded slowly. Of course he did.

“I don’t really know when it started to be something else,” she said quietly. “I was...I was busy, you were busy, there was no, no time, no good moment, and then you were dating and I thought, I didn’t...I didn’t want to get in the way if that was what you wanted, and then...and then you weren’t dating and then you were and…” She stopped abruptly, suddenly aware Luka was cringing. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t know the details of his relationships or why they had ended. She hadn’t felt like she had the right to ask, and the one time she had even hinted in that direction to Juleka, the look Juleka gave her said that Juleka thought so too. 

However, Marinette wasn’t stupid and she knew Luka. She knew that Luka was a compassionate person who believed in honesty and communication, and he might not have named names but none of the people he dated were stupid, either. She’d found herself drawing back just to ease the strain on Luka. Apparently, it was much easier to accept that he was trying to move past feelings for someone else than it was to accept that he still worked closely with that person. Marinette had quietly offered to step down as his personal stylist and Luka had refused so simply and matter-of-factly that she hadn’t had the guts to push harder. 

“I thought, I should be flattered,” he said softly, shifting his weight. “That they were all so sure you were in love with me too and it was only a matter of time before you confessed and I dumped them. I thought I knew you well enough that I would have seen it.” He finally looked at her then, sadly. “Now I’m wondering when I stopped being able to read you. When you stopped being open and sincere with me.” He was silent a moment. “Why, Marinette?”

Marinette shrugged, fingers digging into her arms. “I didn’t feel like it was right to let you see how I was feeling until I was sure. I’ve hurt you for years by not loving you, and I just...I didn’t want to give you that kind of hope when I still didn’t know what I wanted. I mean, I knew what I wanted, I just didn’t know, if...if I could have it. If it would even be right to ask for it, after all this time.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “It all sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”

“Maybe you should have tried that sooner,” Luka pointed out, the corner of his mouth quirking up, though there didn’t seem to be much humor in the tiny smile. 

Marinette dropped her gaze to her feet, and it was almost comforting, a return to the usual dynamic. Except that it wasn’t comforting, because he was right, and he was disappointed in her. 

“I’m sorry for that too.” Marinette sighed. “When have I ever done what I should have done when I should have done it outside of b—an emergency?”

“That’s a fine,” Luka reminded her with a quiet chuckle. “No negative self-talk.” Marinette smiled tightly in spite of herself at the memory of the jar she’d decorated so long ago in purple, pink, and blue, that had sat proudly on the Liberty’s galley counter for years now. Luka sighed and she came back to the moment. “You were on a streak, too,” he pointed out, and then he chuckled again. “Must be going around. Juleka broke her streak this week too.” 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said automatically, and then shook her head. “Maybe I should just...I should just go.” 

“Marinette,” Luka said, and she lifted her eyes to his in one last act of courage. “Say what you came to say,” he told her quietly, and she swallowed hard. Okay. Maybe that wasn’t the last. 

“I’m in love with you,” she said simply, determination alone keeping her feet rooted to the deck when the panicky part of her brain insisted that she flee screaming. “I want to be with you. But I’ll respect whatever decision you make just like you’ve always supported me. And, if moving on is what you want...then I’m okay being in the background for a while, or whatever you need. I’ll do my best to get over it so we can be friends again.” 

Luka sighed, finally shifting his weight off the rail and back onto his feet. He flexed his hands as he let go and Marinette winced slightly at the thought of how sore they must be from clinging there so tightly. She held her ground, trembling slightly, as he advanced on her and looked in her face, taking a deep breath and sighing it out through his nose in that very Luka way. 

Marinette held her breath as Luka leaned down and rested his forehead against hers, his hands coming up to curl lightly around her arms, his thumbs rubbing against the goosebumps the chill breeze had raised. 

“You make me so stupid,” he sighed, a quaver in his usually steady voice. “Why am I such an idiot when it comes to you?”

“That’s a fine,” Marinette whispered, and her breath hitched when he slid his hands down to pry loose her grip on her own arms. “There goes your streak too,” she managed to add, as he tugged her hands away and down and tangled just the tips of his fingers with hers.

Luka grunted. “It doesn’t count if I’m quoting Jules. I guess she was right after all.” 

“Right about what?” Marinette whispered, almost afraid to move. 

“I’m just going to be an idiot forever,” he said, and closed the last bit of distance between their lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...she kinda did apologize for it in the end, but that's the way prompt fics go sometimes!


	6. Kissing Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> A: I kissed [B]!  
> C: Did [B] kiss you back?  
> A: That’s not the point!

“Adrien!”

He turned at the half-panicked scream just in time to catch Marinette, who’d been barreling towards him, clutching her things, with a wild look in his eyes. “Adrien can we talk?” she demanded breathlessly, trying to untangle her feet from each other as he steadied her. “Like right now? I know you have basketball and then fencing but please, I really need to talk to you.” 

“Okay,” Adrien said quickly, manhandling her over to a bench and helping her sit down. She dropped her bag and the various books and papers she’d been clutching on the floor without any regard and clutched her head with her hands.

“This is a disaster,” she moaned. “This is a disaster, how could this happen, how could I do that?” 

“Do what?” Adrien asked, completely bewildered as he absently picked up her things and piled them beside her on the bench before sitting down on her other side.

Marinette stared at him with a white face and absolutely huge eyes. “I kissed Luka!”

Adrien blinked uncomprehendingly. He’d kind of assumed she’d kissed Luka before now, but apparently he was mistaken. 

Marinette was still staring at him with that horrified look on her face, and so he tried to pull himself together and figure out what Alya or Nino would say in this situation. “Did he kiss you back?” was all he could come up with. Luka was crazy about Marinette, the boy made no attempt to hide it, so…

“That’s not the point!” Marinette screeched, and Adrien blinked again.

“It’s not?” he asked, but Marinette didn’t even seem to hear him. 

“I kissed _Luka_ , and yes, he kissed me back, and it was amazing, oh God it was so amazing, last time with Chat it was just like I grabbed his face and _smush_ and it was over and he didn’t even remember it afterwards but this—this was—” Her face went from horrified to dreamy for a moment, before she suddenly shook herself back to her panic. 

Adrien was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to work like that but Marinette had always confused him. And wait, when had she—

Marinette’s barely suppressed scream knocked that thought out of his head and he focused back on the friend he was supposed to be helping.

“But if you kissed him, and he kissed you back, then I don’t see—” Adrien began, but Marinette cut him off. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be _him_ , it was supposed to be _you_ ! I can’t be in love with Luka because I’ve been in love with you for the past year and— _why???_ If I’d tried to kiss you then something totally humiliating would have happened and would have stopped it or the world would have ended and I would have had to time travel to fix everything because apparently _Marinette isn’t allowed to kiss boys_ but I kissed _Luka_ and nothing happened, everything was perfect and nobody came to tell me how it was wrong and I had to fix it!”

Adrien was totally lost now. Only a few things stuck out to him from that flood. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yes!” she cried, and then hesitated. “I think? I mean I...I was, but—but anyway you’re with Kagami now and...and you don’t like me that way, but I still have no business kissing Luka because—” She paused, her expression anguished. “Because Luka loves me. He...he’s always loved me, even though he knows I love _you_ and I’m a total spazz and I’ve treated him so badly sometimes, and he’s always been there for me and so gentle and patient and I shouldn’t have kissed him when I wanted to be kissing you!” 

“You want to kiss me?” Adrien said blankly, and Marinette looked at him like he was an idiot. 

“I’m having a crisis here, could you maybe not be hopelessly oblivious for just like, five minutes?”

Adrien flushed and rubbed his neck. “I’m not sure I know how to do that,” he muttered. However, some part of his brain, probably the part that was used to taking orders because Marinette could be very authoritative when she wanted to be, kicked into gear and suddenly a lot of things that had happened over the past year started making sense in a way that they never had before. 

Marinette had her head back in her hands and was rocking back and forth, moaning and wriggling uncomfortably now and then.

“Do you...still want to kiss me?” he finally asked, not sure how he felt about that. It certainly wasn’t how he imagined his first kiss, and Kagami—but Marinette was her friend and if it helped her maybe Kagami would understand…

Adrien somehow didn’t think so. 

But Marinette looked up at him, and then her eyes fell to at his lips, and Adrein’s heart started to beat uncomfortably fast and he suddenly found it harder to breathe, taking in her own pink, perfectly sculpted lips...she could probably get commercial work with a makeup company when she was just a little older with eyes and lips like hers, and— 

“No,” Marinette breathed, her eyes widening as they flicked up to his again. “I don’t want to kiss you, Adrien.” 

“Okay,” Adrien said, feeling a mixture of relief and regret that actually made him feel a little sick to his stomach. How did Marinette put up with all of her mood swings like this? He’d be throwing up daily if he had as many internal crises as she seemed to.

“I...want to kiss Luka again,” she said slowly, bringing her fingers to her lips, the color coming back into her pale face. “I... _really_ want to kiss Luka again.” 

Adrien felt his own face reddening. “So...if you want to kiss Luka, and Luka wants to kiss you, then…” That was all it took, right? He wasn’t missing something here, was he? 

Apparently not, because Marinette jumped to her feet. “I have to go.” She started to turn away, and then paused and pivoted back, planting a smacking kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Adrien. Thank you so much! Bye!” 

She turned and ran away, and Adrien just sat there, cheeks pink, staring after her and replaying the conversation in his head trying to get it to make sense.

* * *

“Luka!” she screeched, running, waving frantically up at him where he was perched in the Liberty’s rigging. He turned and saw her, and in seconds he was down from the ropes and running across the deck. Marinette skidded to a stop and slapped her hands over her mouth in horror as Luka, instead of veering for the gangplank, kept running straight for her and _vaulted_ the side of the Liberty onto the bank with a land-and-roll maneuver that was 100% Viperion. He popped up and kept running towards her. “Idiot,” she hissed under her breath, beginning to run again, and in moments Luka was wrapping her up in his arms and swinging her around like some cheap romcom. She’d tease him for it later but it put her high enough to kiss him, so she didn’t care. 

“Hi,” he said breathlessly, eyes shining. “I was hoping I’d see you today.”

Marinette bit her lip. “I’m sorry, I—” she began, but Luka shook his head. 

“I know you, Marinette,” he said softly. “I figured you needed some time to get yourself together. I’m not going to say I wasn’t sweating it all day, whether you were going to come back happy or never speak to me again, but…either way, I figured you’d need some time.” Sweating it was actually an understatement, he’d been kind of an absent-minded wreck all day, but she didn’t need to know that. He lowered his head to nuzzle her temple softly. “I’m really glad you didn’t go with the second option. You got everything figured out now?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, leaning her head against his. “Yeah, I think so.” Suddenly she pulled back and her eyes widened as she looked up at him. “I told Adrien I was in love with him,” she said, an edge of panic creeping into her voice.

Luka just raised his eyebrows at her. “Did he say he loved you back?”

Marinette smacked one of the arms that held her. “That’s not the point, dummy!” 

Luka laughed. “What _is_ your point then?”

Marinette sputtered, and then pouted as he laughed some more. “Shut up,” she huffed, and kissed him again. His contented hum made her smile into it, and when she opened her eyes again she couldn’t help thinking happiness looked really good on him.

“I’m kind of assuming,” Luka murmured, his low voice making her shiver. “Given the last few minutes, that you’ve changed your mind?” 

Marinette giggled. “Maybe.” Luka squeezed her and she relented. She’d already made him wait long enough, after all. “Yeah,” she sighed, smiling up at him. “I have.” 


	7. Serpent's Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “You call them bad decisions, but I call them creative acts.” (I took a little liberty with the exact phrasing)
> 
> I had written the first couple of lines to this just as a note to myself at one point when someone requested a Pirate AU for _I'll Never Not Know You_ and the prompt sent my mind right back to it. It didn't quite end up a first meeting fic, so I put it here rather than in that collection, but I've definitely got some options for that first meeting moment now.
> 
> For more prompts and prompt responses check out [MLWeeklyPrompts](https://mlweeklyprompts.tumblr.com/)

“I just want it on record,” Luka called down to the longboat, as he extended a hand to help Adrien’s companion aboard the ship, taking her slim hands and steadying her as she negotiated her skirts over the rail. “That I told you this was a terrible idea.” He squeezed the lady’s hands—gloved, always, without fail—and let them slide out of his. Lady Marinette turned from him and looked out over the sea and up at the sun. Luka watched her—watched the way her eyes took in the boat and the crew with only the slightest turns of her head, her scrutiny undetectable by any who watched her less than he did. 

“You say it’s a terrible idea, I say it’s creative action,” Prince Adrien called back, swinging himself up onto the ladder dangling from the side of the ship. “It’s not like my father would ever let me do this under any other circumstances. I’d almost rather be kidnapped for real at this point. A fake kidnapping is so much less exciting.”

Luka grinned, and nearly laughed, but he managed an expression of composed indifference by the time the prince shimmied up the ladder and over the rail. “Just as long as we’re clear that I warned you,” Luka shrugged. 

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Yes, you warned me about fifty thousand times since we began plotting this entire scheme, and for that, I am grateful. Now please shut up.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Luka replied with a sardonic grin, and Adrien laughed, slapping Luka’s back. 

“Your mouth says it’s a terrible idea, but your eyes say you’re enjoying this as much as I am, and regardless of your feelings you’ve made it happen, so I forgive your poor attitude,” Adrien chuckled, and then held his hands out to the woman who stood at the rail, looking over the sea. “Lady Marinette, I trust you are not too disordered from the boat?” 

Marinette gave him a look of fond exasperation, putting her hands in his. “No, my Prince.” 

“This is your last chance to turn back,” Adrien warned her. “We could still put you back in the boat and have you back at court before morning. I’m still not convinced that this adventure, tame though it may be, will be safe enough for you. I don’t wish any harm to come to you, my dearest friend, nor any harm to your reputation.” 

“No, my Prince, I’m fine,” Marinette replied, her eyes turning away from the Prince and back to the sea. “I have no wish to return.”

“Very well.” Prince Adrien leaned over the rail and tossed a pouch of coin down to the longboat. “For your trouble!” he called, waving. “We will meet you at this spot in seven days!”

While Adrien dismissed the boat, Luka turned to Marinette. “May I show you to your cabin, Lady Marinette?” Luka offered.

“No, thank you, M. Coffret,” she answered absently, eyes still on the sea and ribs swelling against the confines of her dress as she tried to breathe it in. She moved easily with the motion of the boat, and Luka smiled to himself. He glanced back at the prince, who had lurched his way across the boat and was hanging on to the mast for balance as he chattered excitedly to the ship’s captain, his companion already forgotten. 

For that, if nothing else, Luka thought to himself, the prince deserved what was coming.

Luka left the lady to herself without any fear for her ability to take care of herself on deck, and fetched his lute. As soon as there was enough light in the pre-dawn sky, he climbed to a place in the rigging where he would be comfortable and out of the way before beginning to play, his eyes straying frequently to his two charges—to one, admittedly, more than the other. He mostly trusted the crew to keep the prince from killing himself. They liked getting paid, after all.

He watched a glorious sunrise as his fingers coaxed a gentle, hopeful melody from his lute, pleased when he glanced down and found Lady Marinette listening, her face that he loved for its character more than its beauty turned up towards him. He wasn’t sure if she could see his face as he looked down at her, but he kept it smiling and open, just in case. 

Luka continued to keep an eye on the sun and one on the deck. At one point the ship’s captain looked up at him with a murderous expression as Adrien was back at her elbow, nattering again. Luka just grinned and gave a little shrug. The captain rolled her eyes and pasted on a friendly smile as she turned back to the prince.

When he judged the sun to be high enough, and therefore the ship to be far enough from the mainland, Luka began to play a different tune, mischievous and lilting. Glancing down at the deck, he saw the ship’s crew react immediately in quiet, subtle ways. Casually, under various work-related pretenses, they surrounded the prince and the suddenly nervous lady, whose hand came up to grip Adrien’s arm. He paid no attention to her except to pat her hand, not even pausing his excited commentary. Marinette looked anxiously up at Luka, and he secured his lute on his back before making a quick, practiced descent down to the deck.

Luka flashed Marinette a reassuring smile as he approached, and for an instant Marinette relaxed, before Luka ordered, “Take him.” 

The crew members nearest Adrien rushed him. Caught off guard and not paying attention, he was pinned on the deck with his arms behind him in no time. Two crewman tried to seize Marinette by the arms, and Luka didn’t see exactly what happened, but they were both down on the deck in moments and Marinette was brandishing one of their cutlasses in her hand. She braced her feet and lifted the weapon with ease, eyes narrowed at the men who, perceiving a threat, suddenly turned toward her, hands finding the hilts of swords and daggers.

“Stop!” Luka ordered sharply. “Don’t touch her.” More gently he added. “My apologies, Lady Marinette. Their orders were only to keep you from getting harmed if there was a scuffle. I didn’t intend for you to feel threatened. Please step away from the prince.” 

“What are you going to do to him?” Marinette demanded. 

“Ransom him back to his father,” Luka said with a shrug. “Just as we planned, only slightly less...fictional. By the way you undervalue your worth,” Luka added, looking back at Adrien. “But no fear, I adjusted the amount when I swapped the fake ransom note for the real one.” He shook his head as he pulled an envelope out of his shirt and held it between two fingers. “This one was terrible, by the way. Anyone who left a note like this would be caught within a day.” He tossed it and let the wind carry it into the sea. 

“Thank _God_ that part is over,” grumbled the ‘captain,’ walking up beside Luka. “I began to think I’d never be able to finish a thought again. She slipped off her uniform coat and tossed it carelessly aside, opening the top button of her shirt and breathing a sigh like it had strangled her. “Orders, Captain?”

“Captain?” sputtered Adrien, from the deck, straining to look up at Luka.

“Set course for these coordinates,” Luka said, pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket and handing it to Alix. 

“Aye, aye,” she said, taking the paper from him. 

“Pick him up,” Luka sighed, and Ivan reached down and hoisted the prince to his feet. “I’m only doing as he asked,” Luka added to Marinette with a slight shrug. “This little adventure will just cost a bit more than he was expecting. Honestly I would have continued to let him believe he was on his little vacation, but I have other things to do and I can’t have him,” he waved at Adrien. “Gumming up the works with his, um...enthusiasm. Please, move away. He won’t be harmed unless he resists, and even then only if absolutely necessary.”

“Damaged goods mean damaged prices,” Marinette said, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Precisely,” Luka agreed, with a half bow. “I’m glad we understand each other. Now please, step away. I don’t want you hurt.” 

Marinette did, pacing sideways and keeping her weapon at the ready. Careful not to turn his back to her, Luka looked at Adrien. 

“Coffret, what is the meaning of this?” Adrien demanded, and then jerked his arms. “Unhand me!” At Luka’s nod, Ivan let him pull away and stand on his own. He was outnumbered, and now unarmed, and no amount of fancy training could stand up against a pirate crew’s hard experience.

“I did warn you,” Luka reminded him, handing his lute to another hand and accepting his coat and hat in exchange. “And my name is not Coffret,” he added, smirking as he pulled the coat on, the silver embroidery on the lapel showing a jolly roger with the skull of a fanged snake in place of the human skull. “You are much too trusting, Your Highness.” He pulled the leather tie out of his hair and smoothed it back under his hat instead. 

“You lied to me,” Adrien whispered, color returning to his face in a flush that indicated shame and maybe anger. “You were a—a plant the whole time. A secret...agent...pirate!” Luka coughed to cover his laugh, but from the look on Adrien’s face it didn’t help. “You’ve been lying to me for months, haven’t you?”

“If you’re expecting me to feel guilty about that, I don’t. People lie. Pirates…” Luka shrugged. “Well, we lie a lot. I didn’t lie as much as I could have—I _am_ a bard as well as a pirate—but I doubt that’s much comfort. This, however, should be: we mean no harm to you, and you’ll be carefully treated while you’re with us. We prefer getting paid to maiming and murder.” Luka motioned to his crew. “By all means, give His Highness the authentic pirate kidnapping experience.” 

Luka nearly laughed at the excitement mixed in with the fear that Adrien couldn’t quite conceal. Oh, to live a life so boring that being kidnapped by pirates was _fun_ . The Prince might be a bit of a fool, but only in the most loveable and forgivable of ways. Really, King Gabriel should consider himself lucky that this lesson would come so cheaply in the end. Luka would make this experience _just_ unpleasant enough that Adrien would be more cautious in the future, and perhaps King Gabriel would learn a lesson of his own about how ignorance of danger was not security. If Adrien had been allowed to mix more with the world, he might have been less inclined to see this as an adventure—and less inclined to trust the fanciful stories and exciting promises of a bard that he’d only known for a few months. Adrien’s interest in his songs and tales meant that he’d actually gotten to know the prince pretty well, and despite his blindness in matters of love, Luka liked him and felt he would be a much better, and certainly much more beloved, king than Gabriel. He had no desire to deprive a country of a just and gentle ruler. 

Luka liked gentle rulers. Especially for a country in which he might be tried for piracy someday.

“Wait,” Adrien cried, jerking free of his handlers again. “What about Lady Marinette?”

“She will not be harmed,” Luka promised. “I’ve already made arrangements to return her to her family. One of their ships sails this route regularly and we will meet up with them shortly.”

Adrien narrowed his eyes slightly. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. She’s under my protection, I can’t allow her to be harmed.”

Luka laughed, and looked at Marinette, who stood, still at the ready with the cutlass she’d taken from his crewman and whose eyes, he fancied, harbored some amusement of her own. “Oh, I assure you,” Luka said mildly, eyes never moving from the lady. “My intentions are much purer than my thoughts. I give you both my word, she will not suffer any harm as long as I have the power to prevent it.” 

“You expect me to trust the word of a pirate?” Marinette challenged, her chin lifting slightly.

Luka smiled softly at her, not even caring if his crew saw. “Whatever expectations I have, dear lady, more than anything I expect you to defy them all as you always have. Besides, if I even considered the type of things our dear prince is thinking about, Alix would have a dagger in my back by sunset.”

“Damn straight,” the sailing master huffed from where she stood at the wheel. “Only it wouldn’t be your back.”

Luka gave a slight gesture that meant, _you see_? “And my sister and mother would be the next two in line. Now, if you please?” He held out his hand to her, beckoning her towards him.

She considered him for a long moment, and then her eyes flicked around, taking in how very badly outnumbered she and Adrien were. Slowly she walked to Luka, and set the cutlass in his hand. Luka brought his other hand up quickly and closed her fingers back over it. “Keep it for now, if it makes you more comfortable,” he told her, and then offered his arm. She raised an eyebrow, and took it, lowering the sword in her other hand to her side.

Luka didn’t spare another glance back at Adrien as the crew half-manhandled him and half-coaxed him below decks.

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to say you’ll never get away with this?” Marinette asked as he led her away—not to the brig or even to a cabin where she might be held in comfort, but to the bow of the ship, where he stood with her looking out over the water. 

“But I will get away with this,” Luka shrugged. “Or at the very least, I will get away with you, and as that’s why I was sent, I’m content.”

“For me?” Marinette said blankly. “Why me? I’m nobody. You’ll get no ransom for me.”

“Of course I won’t,” Luka laughed. “There’d be no one to ask, for one thing. Your papers are forged, you have no connections in the kingdom, and certainly no one who would pay to get you back. No, fair lady, I seek not ransom, but your own person.” He smirked at her. “I seek the pirate captain who traded her ship for silk gowns and sought to woo a prince.”

Marinette’s mouth opened slightly in surprise and maybe alarm, and then her lower lip pushed forward in a very distracting pout. “Alya sent you.”

“She did,” Luka agreed. “Or more specifically, she contacted my mother for aid, and _she_ sent me. Luka Couffaine, at your service, _Captain_ Ladybug.” 

Marinette turned and faced him, hands on her hips and feet solidly planted, all pretense of the delicate lady gone as she studied him. “So you’re Anarka’s silver-tongued serpent. I’ve heard of you.”

Luka made her a little bow. “Indeed my tongue is useful for many things, as are my fingers. Including making a place for myself at court when the need arises. A debt was owed and I was the best choice for the job, so I came.” His look was less playful and more serious as he straightened and gave her a lopsided smile. “A fitting choice, considering I was one of the poor saps you pulled from the wreckage that night.” 

Marinette narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t tell me who you were. Do you know what words your mother had for me the next time we met? After I told her the captain— _her son_ —was lost with the ship and he turned out to be alive and in with the rest of the crew we ransomed back to her?”

“Yes, I probably do,” Luka grinned ruefully. “Because she probably gave _me_ the same earful. My apologies for the deception; I wasn’t sure it was safe to tell you.”

“You knew I would charge more for you,” Marinette muttered, and Luka shrugged, still grinning. 

“Perhaps.” 

“You’ve been at the court for months, though,” Marinette realized, frowning. “I only lit the signal a fortnight ago.” 

Luka acknowledged this with a nod. “Alya was concerned that if you were discovered you would need help nearby to make a quick escape. A few months of boredom watching a fool claim the privilege of your lips and with his next breath call for another ballad of the dashing and mysterious pirate Ladybug wouldn’t have been my first choice of payment for saving my life, but it seems the job was simple enough. The prince suspected nothing and you chose to call for extraction of your own will rather than necessity, so the rest was easy. In the meantime, I funneled information on shipping schedules and the like to my mother, so it’s not as if the time was entirely idle. I admit from the beginning I wasn’t sure you were actually inclined to be re…” Marinette gave him a sharp look and he swallowed the word. “Assisted,” he chose instead. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

Marinette huffed, her cheeks going red. “I was a fool,” she muttered, leaning her sword against the hull and stripping off her gloves with agitated movements, then reaching up to jerk the pins out of her hair and let it fall loose, whipping in the wind. “Alya should have left me to rot in my folly.” She tossed the pins overboard with a look that said she wouldn’t miss them. 

“You are not a fool,” Luka said, digging in his pocket and handing her the leather thong he’d pulled from his own hair. She took it and tied her hair back into a loose tail. When she was finished, Luka reached to take her bare hand, feeling the roughness she had always concealed, that no true court lady would ever have allowed. “If it’s a crime to wonder and try, then let me be considered guilty as well. I hope to be more fortunate in my choice than you, but you are no fool.” She turned her eyes up at him, big and blue and so beautiful, and his breath caught for a moment. “You are no fool,” he repeated, a little roughly. “And neither am I. I have always seen you, from the night you rushed straight from your bed to pull drowning men over the side of your boat, to the way you stood on deck in full mask and captain’s regalia at the sunrise, to the dance we shared at the masquerade, to the sweet-faced maiden I helped aboard this morning.” 

Her lips parted in a quiet gasp, those eyes going a little bit wider. Luka rubbed his thumb absently over her knuckles. 

“It’s your eyes,” he continued, brushing the back of his index finger near the corner of one. “Anyone who really saw you would know them, no matter which mask you don. For all his tales of the beautiful pirate who saved his life once upon a time, he never really looked at you, or he would have known.” His grin turned teasing. “You save a lot of people for a pirate captain.” 

Marinette huffed and pulled her hand back. “If every man I pull from the sea is going to claim to be in love with me, then I shall certainly stop.” 

“That wasn’t the moment,” Luka said, shaking his head. “I admired you, it’s true, and I was certainly grateful. Intrigued, even. But when I came to court I watched you dance circles in every sense of the phrase around the social climbers flocking to the prince, avoiding every poison dart they sent at you, and the more I came to respect you the more interested I became. But,” his voice softened, and his hand twitched with the desire to touch her again. “I never believed I could love anything more than my music and the sea until we danced the night of the masquerade, when even in your own spots the Prince didn’t know you.” 

Marinette had to swallow before she could speak. “You’ve been at court too long if you think a line like that is going to work on me.” 

Luka just smiled. “A lady like you doesn’t blush at idle flattery. You know the truth when you hear it. I’ll say no more, though, if it disturbs you. You have time for sleep, if you like, before we meet with your crew. Alya gave me your weapons and clothes, they’re in my cabin. You’re welcome to the use of it. You have my word no harm will come to you, and no one will disturb you uninvited.” He offered his arm again, and she took it slowly, saying nothing until they stood at his cabin door.

“Luka,” she said abruptly, and he looked at her. “Why? Why are you saying all these things to me, after I was willing to give up that life for...him.”

“Life is uncertain,” Luka shrugged. “I and all my men should have died the night the _Serpent’s Song_ went down. We would have, if you hadn’t happened upon us and decided to help. Every day I have now is a gift you’ve given me, and I don’t intend to waste it. I want you to know how I feel. That I valued your friendship and confidence the past few months, even though I couldn’t tell you the truth of who I was. That the time we’ve spent together has been precious to me, even if all we have is this and no more.” He slipped his arm away from her grip and opened the cabin door, gesturing her inside with a slight bow. “Welcome aboard the _Second Chance_ , Captain Ladybug.” 

She reemerged on deck a few hours later, her delicate lady’s dress gone in favor of a loose shirt, breeches, and a long black and red coat. Her red and black spotted mask hung down around her neck, unneeded at the moment. She had her own weapons strapped to her waist, and she returned the “borrowed” cutlass to the man she’d taken it from, who blushed and stammered and ran away as quickly as he could.

“Excellent timing,” Luka said as she approached him in the stern, he handed her his spyglass, though the boat coming up behind them was so near now that she hardly needed it. “Within the hour, you should be home.” 

She was close enough to his side that he felt her breath catch at the sight of the _Lucky Charm_ so near, the small, sleek ship cutting through the water. Intended more for smuggling than actual piracy, it was built for speed and it was moving fast. Even as they watched, her flag ran up the mast, black with her spotted ladybug symbol in the center over crossed swords. 

Luka ordered his own colors up in reply, his snake skull and crossbones emblem on a green background, and declined his mate’s suggestion of readying a defense. If the _Lucky Charm_ didn’t want their captain back he wouldn’t be here at all, and as long as he had her, there was no chance of attack. 

“They could always attack when I’m back on board,” she observed, handing him back his glass, as if she had read his thoughts. 

“Then my mother and sister would both come on the warpath, and I don’t think you have any reason to pick that kind of fight,” Luka pointed out in return. “We’re bigger and heavier; you’d have a hard time taking us in a straight up fight even with the advantage of surprise.” He smiled down at her. “It also doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d do.” 

“You think you know me so well,” she muttered.

“I think I see you,” he replied, voice warm but low to avoid carrying beyond the two of them. “I don’t _know_ you nearly as well as I would like to.”

He had to turn away then to give orders to get the two ships alongside each other and going slow enough to make the transfer. It was slightly tricky maneuvering, more for her crew than his own (the _Lucky Charm_ , it seemed, had no love for going slow), but they managed it. 

“Nicely done,” Marinette murmured when everything was set up. In a few moments, the _Lucky Charm_ would pass alongside them. 

“And so our time comes to an end,” Luka sighed with a smile. “My mother instructed me to inform you that the Couffaines now consider their debt paid,” Luka told her, spreading his hands slightly and turning towards her. “And on my own behalf I add that I hope for many future transactions. Preferably less fraught, but if reciprocal rescues—ah, _assistance—_ are the only thing I can get, I’ll take it. Whatever the circumstances, I hope we meet again.”

“It’s a big ocean,” Marinette said noncommittally, folding her arms as she looked up at him, but there was a twinkle in her eyes and a twitch at the corner of her mouth. She’d never been more beautiful.

“So much as breathe a desire for me to the winds, and I will find you anywhere on it,” Luka replied, completely seriously, his eyes intense on her. 

Marinette arched an eyebrow. “You are a flirt and a flatterer, sir.” 

“You know the truth when you hear it,” Luka repeated, smiling again. “I may have lied to the prince but I have lived up to every word I have spoken to you since we met. Only try me on this one as well. Goodbye, Ladybug. I wish you calm seas and fair skies, and all the happiness, freedom, and excitement life can bring you.” 

Marinette glanced at her approaching ship, and then back at him, and then she moved, catching him behind the neck with one hand and pulling him down to crush her mouth against his. 

Luka was vaguely aware of cheers and whistles from his own crew and excited whooping from hers, but the majority of his senses were entirely taken up by her plush lips and her velvet tongue and the curves of her body pressed against his. He was panting when she pulled back from him, nerves alight and alive and longing. His hand had somehow gotten buried in her hair and his other arm was wrapped tight around her waist.

“My thanks for your _assistance._ Don’t get yourself killed over the prince’s ransom,” she whispered, and nipped his lip lightly before pushing him away roughly. 

Then she stepped up to the rail, taking the rope and grapple from her waist, and spun it at her side, face intense as she waited for her moment and her target. Luka had barely blinked and she was sailing over the water between the two ships. She landed on the deck and there was a shriek as a redheaded woman, presumably her first mate, threw herself at Marinette. He could see Marinette laugh and pat the other woman’s back, and then she looked back to him. 

Luka straightened up and cleared his throat, trying for some semblance of his usual cool as he gave her a two-fingered salute. 

Her smirk said he failed. She blew him a kiss and waved, and then the faster ship was sailing past them, gaining speed as the crew went to work unfurling their sails.

Ivan cleared his throat behind Luka. “Captain?”

“Strike the colors,” Luka ordered, still watching the other ship, though it was quickly too far away for him to make out any of the people on board. “Set course for the next rendezvous. We need to let the King know the price of his son’s recklessness.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For convenience's sake and because I didn't want to write another ten thousand words, I made Adrien maybe a little more passive and oblivious in this than he maybe would be. Sorry about that, sort of. I still don't want to write another ten thousand words to make it better. 😁


	8. Marinette Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's prompt was Magical Girl, and I wrote this in two fifteen minute sprints, with some followup editing. Enjoy!

Luka Couffaine was moping. Wallowing, even. He flopped back against the rail of the boat, not caring about how it dug into his shoulders, and threw an arm over his face so no one could see him pout.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there when a sweet, familiar voice said, “Hey you,” in a sympathetic tone he would have resented from anyone else. 

“Hey,” he muttered, and he knew he ought to look up, to smile, to do something to let her know that he really was glad to see her, but...he just couldn’t. 

He’d really wanted that gig. The band was solid, they had a good fan base, their sound was killer. He thought he could fit in with their vibe.

He’d been so  _ sure _ but...apparently, they disagreed. 

“Well,” Marinette said, plopping down next to him and tossing her legs over his lap, setting a box on her own thighs. “I brought comfort pastries.” 

“I don’t know if pastries are going to cut it tonight,” Luka sighed, resting one hand on her shin as he let his head fall back again. 

“Oh, that’s bad,” Marinette sighed, snuggling up to him and pressing her face gently into his neck. “It’s a good thing I have other resources.”

“Yeah?” Luka tried to muster some enthusiasm but he knew his smile was weak. 

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed, pushing away a bit and swinging her legs off of him. She moved the pastry box aside, slid up next to him, and put her arms around him, drawing his head down to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, as he buried his face in her neck this time and breathed deep. “You’re really disappointed, huh?”

Luka grunted an affirmative, and felt Marinette press a kiss into his hair. “Do you just want to be quiet for a bit?” she asked, and he sighed shakily, nodding against her. Her slender fingers slipped into his hair, while the other hand began rubbing his back soothingly with firm strokes. Her hands were small, but strong, and Luka folded himself up as tight as he could against her. 

It wasn’t the end of the world. There would be other opportunities. And if he got desperate...there was always Jagged…

Luka really didn’t want to call Jagged. He sighed again, and Marinette kissed the top of his head and his temple, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tight. 

“It really is quiet,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Without the music.” 

He supposed it was true. There was certainly plenty of noise—the slap of the water on the hull, the wind on the river, the creak and plunk of the boat itself, and the faint sound of traffic in the distance still audible over it all. But that’s all it was. Noise. No warm conversation or laughter or the richness of emotion that he felt in all music. 

But then he smiled, slipping down a little to press his ear to her heart. “Who says there’s no music?” he mumbled. 

“Sap,” Marinette snorted, but he could tell she was pleased, and he found himself smiling. He laid a kiss of his own at the hollow of her throat, feeling her breath hitch against his lips, and then he leaned up to kiss her lips softly. Marinette cupped his face, kissing him back tenderly. He could feel her desire to comfort and cheer him in it, and knew how hard it must be for the active girl to sit quietly with him when she was so used to doing, solving, fixing. 

He loved her so much.

Who the fuck needed a job, anyway? His own hand came up to curl around the back of her neck, brushing a thumb along her jaw as he kissed her again, savoring the soft, plush feel of her lips under his, the familiar way her head tilted and their mouths slotted perfectly together when she parted those lips just slightly. 

Marinette often took the lead when they kissed, passionate and occasionally impatient with Luka’s preference for a slower, softer rhythm, but tonight she let him kiss her as he liked, willing to give him whatever he needed. So he took his time, burying the fingers of both hands in her hair to cradle her head at just the angle he needed for kiss after slow, sensual kiss, until she squeaked and he felt her hands hit his chest. He realized simultaneously that he had just pulled her onto his lap, and that he was in rather dire need of oxygen. 

“Feeling better?” she asked with a breathless giggle, wiggling a bit to get her balance before peppering kisses across his face.

“Worlds,” Luka sighed, kissing her back wherever he could reach until she pulled back to look at him. “You’re magic, you know that?” 

Marinette giggled again and squirmed as he mouthed at a spot on her neck where he knew she was ticklish. “Maybe even miraculous?” she suggested.

Luka shook his head affectionately, and laid his head back on her shoulder, wrapping his arms tight around her waist. “No. Just Marinette magic.” 


	9. It's Just Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ice Cream
> 
> Sorry, I’ve got a beef with Andre and his magic ice cream, so...yeah I maybe vented a little here. I regret nothing.

The same combination of flavors again. Sky blue and pink. She wrapped her fingers around the cone and stared at it morosely. 

“Good day for ice cream, huh?” Luka asked, smiling softly at her. They’d been walking aimlessly, just enjoying the day and each other’s company, before Marinette had spotted Andre. There were no clouds, and the sun was intense, so of course he hadn’t questioned her craving, finding them a bench in the shade while she indulged her near-pathological need to try just one more time. As if something would be different today from the last ten times she’d seen the ice cream maker since...that day. Marinette wasn’t even sure what kind of change she was looking for anymore, just...something. Something that made her feel less alone. 

Luka’s hand squeezed her shoulder and Marinette realized she hadn’t answered him.

“Oh,” Marinette said, looking up at him. “I guess so. Yeah.” She looked back down and continued to poke at her ice cream.

“Something on your mind?” Luka asked. 

“Always,” Marinette sighed, more honest in the moment than she had really meant to be. “All the time. So many things.” 

She jumped when Luka’s hand brushed her cheek and looked up at him as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I like the new look,” he murmured absently, brushing her loose hair back from her shoulder as his hand dropped. “Anything I can help with?” he asked, more focused as his gaze returned to her face.

Marinette shook her head, returning to the contemplation of her ice cream, and then without meaning to, she said, “It’s different now. It’s not what he used to give me.”

“Yeah?” Luka chuckled. “Up until a couple months ago, he gave me a different combination every time.”

“Really?” Marinette looked up at him again, blinking. 

“Yeah,” Luka smiled, setting his fingers to the strings and strumming a soft series of chords. “I wondered if I should be insulted, for a while. That maybe he thought I was fickle, or in and out of love all the time.”

“Were you?” Marinette teased, and Luka grinned, shrugging without looking at her.

“Maybe,” he said. “By some people’s definition. I went through a lot of crushes, but they weren’t anything serious, just...passing feelings. The thing is, I don’t really feel ashamed of that. We’ve gotten so invested as a culture in the idea that ‘true’ or ‘eternal’ love is the only kind that matters, and we’re all desperately seeking it, but…” He shrugged again.

“But?” Marinette prompted, beginning to eat her ice cream hastily as it was starting to melt. 

“But I just think love doesn’t have to be eternal to be meaningful. People have written songs about all kinds of love. I don’t think I’m the only one that finds something beautiful in the little flames that burn bright and quick and then go up in smoke. It’s not the same beauty as an all-consuming bonfire or the warmth of a hearth fire, but it’s there, and I refuse to be ashamed of it.”

“Wow,” Marinette said, looking down at the ice cream in her hands. “That’s…” She paused, and Luka strummed, waiting. “What does he give you now?” Marinette asked curiously. 

Luka grinned at her. “You really want to know?” He stood up, slinging his guitar on his back, and walked casually down to Andre. Marinette’s eyes widened when he turned to walk back, an ice cream identical to her own in his hands. Luka sat back down next to her and grinned.

“Can’t be that big a surprise, Marinette,” he teased. “It doesn’t take any special powers to see it.” 

It really wasn’t that surprising. It wasn’t that she was surprised that he had her colors in ice cream. The real surprise was, and this had been bothering her since Andre gave her the cone, that _she_ had it. 

“But…” Marinette looked at the ice cream in her own hands. “But what does it mean?” she finally said—nearly wailed. What on earth did it mean when the sweethearts ice cream man gave you _yourself_. Was she going to be alone forever?

Luka chuckled but his expression softened as he put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I don’t know. I hope it means that you’re finally putting yourself first. I hope it means that whatever craziness is going on right now, you’re feeling more grounded in your true self. I hope it means that you’re starting to realize that loving Marinette is important too.” He let his hand slip off her shoulder and took the tiny spoon of his ice cream in his long fingers. “But I suppose if you really want to know, you’d have to ask Andre.” He took a bite. “But you can’t deny that whatever it means, it’s delicious.” 

Marinette giggled, maybe a little hysterically, and Luka automatically reached to squeeze her hand. “Marinette,” he sighed, giving her a lopsided smile. “Sometimes ice cream...is just ice cream. And as good as Andre’s ice cream is, it only means as much as you let it.” 

Marinette’s shoulders slumped slightly, and she took another spoonful of her own ice cream, sighing heavily. “I said that to him once. I told Andre once that I didn’t believe his ice cream had any special powers, and that it was just ice cream. He tried to hand me my ice cream and told me my love would appear, and then...even though he was _supposed_ to come, he didn’t. Even though I wanted to see him so badly, Andre’s ice cream...didn’t work. I got upset and frustrated and I was...so mean to him.” 

Luka made an acknowledging noise, and waited for her to continue.

She sighed heavily. “Andre got akumatized, and started attacking people with ice cream, and he came after me and if Chat Noir hadn’t just happened to stop on my balcony that night, I don’t know what would have happened.” 

Luka grunted. “Fucking Hawkmoth,” he muttered darkly under his breath, stabbing his ice cream with the spoon and levering up a big bite. 

Marinette smiled faintly. “I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I don’t know why I couldn’t just...take the ice cream and keep my mouth shut. And I was so mired in the heartbreak of the moment that I couldn’t enjoy the ice cream or my friends, and I just made everyone unhappy.”

“One,” Luka said, raising a finger from the spoon, his expression still grim, “Andre’s a grown man and it can’t be the first time he’s heard something like that. Two, someone being a little rude doesn’t mean they deserve to be attacked with ice cream. Which Andre would probably agree with, if he hadn’t been akumatized.” He sighed slightly. “Honestly, the guy buys into his own hype just a bit too much at this point. I hope he thinks about it sometimes, about how much responsibility he’s taken on, about how many people take his little ice cream mojo thing he’s got going on seriously.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, clearly making an effort to relax his face. “I dunno,” he said after a moment. “Maybe it’s the Couffaine in me, but...stuff like this,” he waved his spoon at both their ice creams. “It really only has as much power as we give it. All traditions are like that. Andre might be a perceptive person. He might even be magic, I don’t know. Hard to discount anything when magical butterflies and ladybugs are a fact of life.”

Marinette giggled at that, and Luka gave her a smile. “But, well,” he continued. “This idea that getting Andre’s together means you’ll never part, that…” He shrugged as he considered his words. “I don’t know, I don’t have anything against lucky charms and stuff—sailors are superstitious like that, you know, and I come from a long line of them. But, it’s one thing to conjure a little luck, and it’s another thing to—to try to get a guarantee, I guess? It’s giving up control, in a way, and that doesn’t sit right with me. _Oh, we got Andre’s together, we’ll be in love forever, what a relief_.” He shook his head. “Or coming to Andre and getting a terrible flavor combination, and that means your love is doomed...that doesn’t make sense to me.” He snorted. “For one thing I’ve never seen it happen. Andre’s not an idiot, he’s trying to make a living here, right? I can’t imagine that very often he sees a relationship that isn’t going to work and actually admits to it.” 

“My parents got Andre’s ice cream,” Marinette pouted. “My father proposed by hiding the ring in a scoop of vanilla ice cream.” 

Luka choked on a laugh. “Really.”

“Yep,” Marinette sighed, poking at her increasingly slushy ice cream. “They believe in it.” 

“Marinette,” Luka said, his voice gentle though tinged with amusement, “Don’t you think that by that time, they had a little more than ice cream going for them?”

Marinette sighed, and for a moment they were silent. 

“Relationships are not ice cream,” Luka said at last. “Relationships are work. Relationships are intentional. And if getting Andre’s ice cream is…a symbol of commitment, or a fun tradition, or even just a good luck ritual, that’s all well and good. But relationships are not made of ice cream, they’re made of people and feelings and effort. So sitting here, agonizing over your ice cream and what it means...maybe isn’t the best use of your energy, yeah?” He smiled at her. “It’s melting, you should eat it. It’d be a shame if you’re so busy worrying about it, that you can’t enjoy it while it lasts.”

He took a bite of his own ice cream, and smiled. “Love might be eternal but ice cream definitely isn’t,” he chuckled. “No matter how much you savor it. Either you eat it or it makes a huge mess.” He nudged Marinette, who laughed, and got up, throwing her soggy, melty ice cream cone away. 

“Well,” she sighed, sitting back down next to Luka. “I guess that makes twice that I couldn’t just enjoy the ice cream and keep my mouth shut.” 

“It’s not too late,” Luka shrugged, turning his ice cream to offer her the other spoon. “If you’re willing to take the risk.” He winked. “Just don’t blame me if you end up stuck with me forever.” 

Marinette giggled, and took the little spoon between her thumb and forefinger, scooping up the ice cream and popping it into her mouth without hesitation. “It might not be so bad,” she shrugged, and giggled at the lopsided grin Luka completely failed to hide.


End file.
